Jinx
by kbinnz
Summary: The ship rescues a Star Fleet Academy cadet from an anthropology project gone awry, but the young woman seems to be jinxed. The casualty toll rises as Picard tries to decide whether this is simply bad luck or if something more malevolent is at work.
1. Chapter 1

"Captain!" Worf''s call broke the quiet of the Bridge. "We are receiving a Priority One message from Starbase 18."

"On main viewer," Picard ordered, his brow creased in concern. Priority One was reserved for the most serious matters.

"_Enterprise_, this is Starbase 18. Respond, please."

"This is Picard; we're receiving your signal, Emil. What is the problem?"

The base director, an old friend of Picard's, relaxed somewhat. "Jean-Luc! I wasn't sure we'd be able to reach you."

"What is it? Is something wrong on the base?"

Emil Langston shook his head. "Not here, but 62 minutes ago, a freighter in the Minoan system picked up an automated distress call. The message reads simply, 'Code Eight'."

"Emergency evacuation," Riker murmured.

Langston nodded. "It's from a personal homing device of the type issued to Star Fleet personnel. We don't have the identity codes here, but we've sent to Star Fleet Command for them. In the meantime, Jean-Luc, there's a member of Star Fleet in trouble!"

"Could the freighter localize the source of the transmission?"

"Her captain thinks it originated in the Arcadian system. You're not far from there; can you divert?"

Picard turned to the helm. "Data?"

"We can be there in 17 minutes at maximum warp, sir," the android replied almost instantly.

Picard nodded to Lt.Solus at Navigation. "Make it so."

"I wish I had more information for you, Jean-Luc," Langston apologized. "When we get the reply from Star Fleet, we'll send it on to you. Starbase 18 out."

"A personal locator implies one person," Riker frowned. "The sole survivor of a crash?"

"Then why 'Code Eight' instead of the more general 'M'Aidez'?" Picard asked. "Data, what do we know about the Arcadian system?"

"Relatively little, sir. There is one inhabited planet, technologically primitive. The last Federation contact was eight years ago, and the only recorded comment in the computer banks is 'Routine'."

"That's a big help," Riker remarked sourly. "Should I assemble an Away Team?" he asked Picard.

"No. With a Code Eight in force, it seems foolhardy to send more people down. Let's see if we can locate whoever is sending the message. Once they're on board, we'll get some answers."

As soon as they were within transporter range of Arcadia, Riker went to the Transporter Room while Worf scanned the planet for the source of the transmission. "Got it. Transferring to Transporter Room."

O'Brien frowned at the readout. "The source is in motion. I can't beam him up until he stays still."

Riker looked over his shoulder. "It looks like he's wearing the transmitter."

"Yeah," O'Brien agreed, "but it won't do him any good if he won't stay put long enough for me to get a lock. It's too bad we can't contact him."

"He's moving pretty fast."

"Sensors indicate several other life forms in pursuit," Data's voice informed them.

"He's being chased! O'Brien, get him out of there!"

"I'm trying, sir! He won't -- ah, there now; he's stopped and is turning -- " O'Brien was activating the transporter even as he spoke.

A slight form shimmered into being on the platform. Riker stepped forward, but before he could open his mouth, the newcomer completed the motion he'd begun before the transporter beam snatched him off the planet. His arm came around, the weight of his body behind the throw, and Riker ducked reflexively as an object came hurtling towards him.

He only had time to register a metallic gleam as it flashed by his left shoulder to clang against the wall.

He looked up to find the newcomer's eyes fixed on him in an expression of shock. As he straightened, he noticed for the first time that, beneath the gray furs and leather armor, their guest was a young woman barely out of her teens.

The girl came out of her frozen trance and snapped to attention. "Star Fleet Cadet Mia Latham, sir!"

Riker spared a backwards glance to where O'Brien was hefting the knife Latham had thrown. "Report, Cadet," he snapped.

"Sir, I'm a third year cadet at Star Fleet Academy. I was on Arcadia performing a two month anthropologic study for my concentration requirements. A war broke out this morning, so I triggered my emergency signal and headed for cover. I didn't realize anyone had arrived, sir; I'm very sorry about the knife."

"Is murdering your subjects a normal part of an anthropologic study, Cadet?" Riker asked drily.

"No, sir, but I wasn't trying to murder anyone, sir. I was just hoping to slow them down so I could get away."

"Is there anyone else from Star Fleet on the planet?"

"No, sir. Just me, sir."

"All right, Cadet; at ease."

Latham relaxed from her brace, her eyes wandering about the room. "Sir? Commander," she hastily amended, glancing at Riker's collar. "What ship is this?"

"The _Enterprise_. I'm the First Officer, Commander Riker."

The cadet's face wrinkled in thought. "The _Enterprise_? That's -- " she gasped " -- Captain Picard's ship!"

Amused, Riker nodded. "That's right."

"But -- but -- we've studied him in class! He's, well, just -- I mean, the whole ship is -- "

"Anxious to hear your report, Cadet," Riker interrupted. "Come with me. O'Brien, get rid of that knife, will you?"

"Commander, if we're going to see the captain, could I take two minutes to change? Please, sir?" Latham chewed her lip nervously.

Riker couldn't hide his grin, but he aquiesced. "All right. My quarters aren't far; you can get your uniform from the computer and change there."

"Thank you, sir!" Latham beamed in relief. "I've been dying to get out of these furs for weeks!"

Riker was too polite to comment, but he could understand why. The clothes smelled as though they hadn't been washed in at least that long. When they reached the cabin, Riker directed Latham to the bedroom with its adjacent shower, then called Picard.

"The distress call came from a Star Fleet cadet, Captain, on the planet for an anthropology course. It seems some kind of war broke out, and she was caught in the middle of it."

"I see. Escort her to my Ready Room, Number One -- we'll need to hear the whole story."

"Aye, sir." Riker switched off and called to Latham. "Hurry up, Cadet!"

"Yes, sir! Just a moment, sir!"

It was more than a moment, but less than three minutes before Latham reappeared, freshly showered and changed. "All set, sir," she reported, running a hand through her wet hair.

Riker ran a critical eye over her uniform, checking for any flaws. Satisfied that Latham would pass even Picard's inspection, he led the way to the Ready Room. "Captain, this is third year Cadet Mia Latham."

"Sir!" Latham stood stiffly at attention, not even daring to breathe.

Picard glanced over to where Riker was trying to hide a smile behind his hand. "At ease, Cadet," he said kindly. "Sit down."

"Thank you, sir!" Latham perched on the edge of the chair, overcome with awe.

"What exactly were you doing on Arcadia?" Picard asked, seating himself and waving Riker to another chair.

"Sir, I was conducting a cultural observation for my Advanced Anthropology and Primitive Cultures course. Sir," Latham added for good measure.

"How long had you been there?" Riker asked.

"I was dropped off five and a half weeks ago, sir, and the _Rickover_ was scheduled to pick me up in another four. That way, sir, I'd be back at the Academy for the start of the new semester. Sir."

"But..." he prompted.

Latham sighed, thinking back. "But things went a little crazy," she said sadly.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Sir!" Latham snapped back to the present. "I mean, sir, that the situation on the planet did not conform to projected -- "

"No, Cadet," Picard said patiently. "I mean, what happened?"

"Oh! They went to war, sir," Latham replied simply. "And I was the main target. So, you see, sir, I had to call for a Code Eight."

"What do you mean, you were the target?" Riker demanded. "Did you provoke the conflict?"

"Oh no, sir!" Latham's eyes widened in horror. "That would be a violation of the Prime Directive!"

"Then why were you a target? As an outsider, you should have been neutral in the conflict."

"Um." Latham looked embarrassed. "It doesn't quite work that way on Arcadia, sir."

"Explain."

"Yes, sir. The society on Arcadia, sir, is organized around tribal units not unlike the clans of ancient Scotland on Earth." Latham's tone took on a professorial note as she began to lecture. "These familial groups are in constant struggle against one another for supremacy within a given locale. Strict traditions have evolved to regulate these conflicts, most of which serve to prevent the spilling of blood.

"This has caused the struggle to become one of prestige, with 'battles' being Machiavellian intrigues designed to humiliate the enemy clan. The history of the clans is fascinating, filled with cross and double-cross. The Arcadians may well be the best strategists in -- "

"Cadet."

"Oh. Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. Uh, well, sir, while I was on Arcadia, I stayed with the L!Xu family, the leading clan in my area. But this morning, the rival clan launched an offensive to wrest that title away. The centerpiece of their campaign was my death."

"I thought you said that custom forbade killing in these fights."

"Yes, Commander: the killing of members of the enemy clan. That's to prevent never-ending blood feuds from erupting. But for clanless outsiders like myself, well, sir, those rules don't apply. You see, sir, I was the guest of the L!Xu, so if the Ch'Chn could kill me, it would bring great dishonor upon the L!Xu house. As soon as I heard that the Ch'Chn assassins were coming, I knew I had to be their target, so I hit my distress beacon and fled."

"Wouldn't the L!Xu protect you?"

"Yes, sir; their honor would demand it, but if one of them were killed in the attempt, or if they were to kill the Ch'Chn, then a major war might have resulted. I thought that by getting away from the L!Xu estates, I might lessen the chances of the two sides coming into open conflict."

"While increasing the chances of your own demise," Picard commented.

"Yes, sir, but sir, even if I were killed, so long as I was off the L!Xu lands when it happened, then the L!Xu's responsibility to me was greatly reduced. So the Ch'Chn's victory wouldn't mean as much. I couldn't just let them use me as a pawn, sir; the Prime Directive specifically states that -- " the cadet broke off, blushing. She knew better than to tell Jean-Luc Picard what the Prime Directive said. "I'm sorry, sir. I mean, I was just trying to minimize the damage that my presence had clearly caused. I thought that running away and calling for an emergency evacuation was the best way to do that, sir."

"That would appear to have been very sensible."

"Do you really think so, sir?" Latham asked plaintively. "I don't think my anthro professor will agree. He didn't even want me to have a distress beacon. If my Cadet Commander hadn't gone to the Commandant and insisted, I'd never have gotten one." She sighed gloomily. "Professor Babson is so dedicated to the field that if the group he was studying decided to cook him for dinner, he'd take notes on the condiments they selected! He's going to say that I should have stayed behind."

"To be assassinated? Or to incite a war? Nonsense."

"Thank you, sir. And thank you for responding to my beacon, sir."

Picard glanced at Riker. "Well, Cadet, in three weeks, our schedule calls for us to arrive at Space Station Magellan. We should be able to arrange for you to be picked up there and transported back to the Academy."

Riker nodded. "I believe the _Nelson_ might be going that way."

"Thank you, sir."

"So long as you're on board, though, I see no reason you shouldn't make use of the opportunity. Commander Riker will devise a duty schedule for you."

Latham's jaw dropped. "Yes, _sir_! Thank you very much, sir!"

"It's a shame Wesley is with the engineering team on Galor III," Riker remarked to Picard.

"Yes." Picard nodded.

"Sir?"

"An ensign on the ship," Riker explained. "He hopes to enter the Academy next year."

"An ensign, sir?" Latham looked puzzled. "Who hasn't gone to the Academy?"

"Ensign Crusher received a field commision," Picard told her, "but he's spending a month off the ship on an engineering design project."

"Oh."

"I'd suggest you go to the Quartermaster's for a cabin assignment, then get some rest, Cadet. Your day will start at 0630 tomorrow."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Rising to her feet, Latham saluted and marched out.

Riker and Picard stared after her. "God, was I ever that young?" Riker asked, more to himself than to the captain.

Picard grinned. "Or that spit and polish?"

"Never. I was always the one out of step in the drills. And I think that three 'sir's in two sentences was my limit."

Picard smiled indulgently. "She'll become more comfortable soon. Where do you plan to assign her?"

"If you have no objection, I thought Bridge duty. She could monitor the Environmental station and look over Worf's shoulder at Tactical."

Picard nodded approval. "Excellent."


	2. Chapter 2

Promptly at 0630 the next morning, Latham stepped onto the Bridge. Worf, the senior officer present, greeted her with a forbidding glare.

"Cadet Latham reporting for duty, sir!" Latham tried her best to sound professional.

"You have been assigned the Environmental station. Are you familiar with it?" Worf snapped.

"Oh, yes, sir! I spent last night studying it, sir. This is the gravity stabilizing panel, the atmospheric monitor, the... " As Mia continued to reel off the instruments and define their functions, Worf's expression lost some of its fierceness.

"Adequate," he allowed when she had finished. "You may begin your shift."

"Lieutenant?" Mia called after him. "I also studied Tactical," she told him, greatly daring.

Worf just looked at her.

Taking that as encouragement, Mia promptly explained every readout on the board. When she'd finished, she glanced sidelong at Worf. "Environmental doesn't really need to be monitored, sir, but Tactical does."

"Oh?" Worf's expression was unreadable.

"Yes, sir. Only while you're otherwise occupied, sir. But it would pose a security risk if Tactical were unattended while you attended to other responsibilities." Abruptly Mia realized that it sounded as though she were

lecturing the Chief of Security on his duties. "I mean, sir, I -- "

Astonishingly, Worf replied, "Your point is valid. Monitor Tactical."

"Yes, sir!" Latham couldn't believe her luck. While Worf went to sit in the command chair, she took over his post.

Worf's readiness to relinquish Tactical was somewhat out of character, as was his disregard of Latham's implication that he was unable to perform two duties simultaneously. However, although few would be foolhardy enough to suggest that a Klingon warrior could be swayed by sentiment, it was undeniable that Latham's slight form, as she bent over Tactical, bore a distinct resemblance to another young woman who had once staffed that post.

The likeness was emphasized two hours later when Picaard arrived on the Bridge. "Lieutenant, open a channel to Starbase 18," he ordered, not bothering to look up from the report he was perusing.

"Hailing frequencies open, sir," a low female voice reported promptly.

"Tash--" Picard spun about in shock.

At Tactical, Latham stared down at him, disconcerted. "Sir?"

"Nothing, Cadet. Carry on," Picard said shortly, turning away.

"Yes, sir. Hailing frequencies are open, sir." Latham's tone was even, but she couldn't wholly suppress her bewilderment.

Troi rose from her seat and took advantage of Picard's conversation with the starbase to join Latham.

"Did I do something wrong?" Mia whispered unhappily.

"No." Troi shook her head. "For a moment, you reminded the captain of someone."

"Who?"

"Her name was Tasha Yar. She was the ship's first Chief of Security."

"'Was'?" Latham echoed uneasily.

"She was killed on an Away Team mission," Troi told her quietly.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know. Do -- do I look like her?"

Troi smiled. "No, not really, but since Tasha's death, we've all gotten used to Worf at Tactical. I don't believe there's been a woman at the post since Tasha, so naturally the captain was a bit startled."

"Is it all right if I stay?" Mia asked nervously. "Will I make anyone uncomfortable?"

Troi patted her arm reassuringly. "Not at all. Reminders of Tasha are welcome, and with Wesley away it's nice to have a young person on the Bridge."

Mia smiled, relieved. "Thank you, Counselor!"

Over the next few days, the Bridge crew settled into the idea of having Mia around. Riker arranged for her to spend some time in other areas of the ship, but Worf gradually allowed her to take over Tactical with increasing frequency. It was on the sixth day of Latham's stay aboard the _Enterprise_ that Worf received a summons from Security while he was on the Bridge.

"Permission to leave the Bridge, sir?"

"Hm?" Picard barely glanced up from his own work. "Of course."

Worf signalled to Latham to take over, then exited.

Mia stepped into position, a thrill running down her spine. She still couldn't believe her luck at being rescued by the _Enterprise_, let alone being granted temporary Bridge duty. She imagined how her friends back at the Academy would react when she told them, and she wasn't able to suppress a grin.

Then a light on her console began to blink, and she instantly lost her smile. "Captain! Photon torpedoes have just been armed!"

"What?" Both Picard and Riker surged to their feet. "Belay that!"

"I didn't do it, sir!" Mia said, desperately keying in commands. "The controls won't respond -- I can't disarm them!"

"If you didn't do it, who did?" Riker demanded.

"I don't know, sir!" Latham continued to try to cancel the arming sequence. "It suddenly appeared on the board. Sir, if they fire while we're at warp speed -- "

"Helm, emergency stop!" Picard snapped. "The only other place the torpedoes can be armed is the Battle Bridge. Battle Bridge, respond!"

There was no answer.

Picard looked at Riker, and the First Officer understood immediately. Rushing to the turbolift, he called, "Latham, have a Security squad meet me there!"

"Aye, sir! Captain, I've locked in a neutral target in case the torpedoes are fired, but I've had no luck in overriding the commands."

"Continue your attempts."

At the Battle Bridge, Riker burst through the doors, expecting to find alien intruders. Instead, a startled engineering tech peered up at him from underneath the console on which he'd been working.

"Yes, sir?"

"What's going on here?"

"I'm running a preparedness drill, Commander, to make sure the Battle Bridge is at combat readiness."

"Since when does that involve actually firing the photon torpedoes? And why didn't you answer the captain's hail?" Behind him, a full squad of Security hurried off the turbolift.

The tech stared at him. "I'm not really firing the weapons -- I'm just running through the arm and launch sequence on a dead board. I've got the manual override on."

"No, you don't. We're reading the arming commands on the Bridge."

"What?" The tech turned ashen. "But I know I hit the override! I -- " He turned to the panel where several tools lay. One of them, a heavy positron adjustor, lay directly on top of the override switch. As it was lifted away, the "armed" light could be seen clearly. "My god. When Ensign O'Malley brought in this equipment, I told him to drop it anywhere. It must have hit the switch again when he put it down."

Riker nodded. "It also got the intercom." He dismissed the Security team as the tech shakily entered the "disarm" command.

"Commander, if I'd gotten any farther along in the drill, and launched those torpedoes while we were in warp, the ship could have been destroyed!"

"We caught it on the Bridge, Swenson, and there was no harm done, but from now on, keep the tools off the instrument panels and alert the Bridge before future tests!"

"Yes, sir." The tech still looked sick.

"Well?" Picard asked as Riker reentered the Bridge.

"Human error: a slipup during routine maintenance. I'll make sure Geordi looks into it."

"Mm." Picard frowned. "I don't want it to happen again."

"Understood."

The lift doors opened and Worf strode back onto the Bridge.

"You missed the excitement, Worf!" Riker called out.

"But Cadet Latham performed admirably," Picard added, nodding at Mia. Latham turned pink at the praise.

"Of course," Worf retorted huffily. "If Latham could not handle any situation that might arise, I would not have left Tactical to her."

Picard raised his eyebrows while Riker grinned at Mia. "I should have realized that, Lieutenant," he acknowledged gravely. "Carry on."

Two days later, Mia got her reward.

"Standard orbit around Essenia, sir," Solus reported from the helm.

"Number One, had you given any thought to the composition of the Away Team?" Picard asked unexpectedly.

Riker frowned, uncertain as to what the captain was getting at. "This is more a diplomatic errand than anything else. I didn't think a large Team would be necessary."

"Agreed. You and I will have to attend, but I think only one or two others will be needed... The culture has an interesting history, doesn't it?"

Riker caught on at last. "Yes, it does. Perhaps an anthropologist would be useful."

"My thoughts exactly. Whom would you recommend?"

Riker looked up to where Mia was trying not to eavesdrop too conspicuously. "Would Cadet Latham do?"

Picard seemed to think it over. "A cadet?"

"She handled herself well the other day. And Worf could come along and keep an eye on her."

Picard finally nodded. "Make it so."

Riker grinned up at a speechless Mia. "Congratulations, Cadet. Welcome to your first Away Team."


	3. Chapter 3

A few hours later, after the first greetings had been exchanged and the visit officially arranged, Riker strode into the Transporter Room. "Have you received the coordinates from the Essenians?"

O'Brien nodded. "I'm all set here. Are _you _ready for Essenian cuisine? I hear it makes Klingon _gahh _look good."

Riker grimaced. "Don't tell me."

"It probably isn't so bad if you can forget that it once was -- "

"All right!" Riker glared. At O'Brien's grin, he shook his head resignedly. "They never told us at the Academy that your biggest asset in interstellar diplomacy is a strong stomach."

"Any chance in getting out of it?"

"None. They specifically invited us at the local lunch hour. They'll give us a guided tour of the city afterward."

"If you can still walk."

"Funny. What time is it? Worf and the captain will come from the Bridge, but Latham had better not be late."

O'Brien pointed around the corner. "Take a look."

Riker walked over to where O'Brien was indicating and found Latham slumped across the computer station. "Mia?" he asked, touching her shoulder.

"Huh?" She jerked awake. "Oh, sir. I was just reviewing some notes on Essenia. It's a fascinating society, sir."

"Obviously." Riker replied drily.

"Oh, no, sir," Latham rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. "It wasn't the material that made me drowsy, sir. Honestly. It's just that I didn't get much sleep last night."

"Is there a problem with your cabin?"

"No, sir. I was studying, sir."

"For what? Do you have exams waiting for you back at the Academy?"

"No, sir," Latham laughed. "It's not for the Academy, sir; it's for the _Enterprise_. I needed to review closed loop ecosystem bioenergetics, and then since we were due to arrive here, I called up the file on Essenia. It really is interesting, sir, and I guess I stayed up too late."

"How long have you been here?"

A chuckle from O'Brien made Latham blush. "Not too long, sir."

"Oh, no," O'Brien agreed. "Not more than two hours."

"What?"

"I was off duty, sir," Latham put in quickly.

"I know that, Mia, but you should have been relaxing or--"

"I needed to finish the file on Essenia, sir, and I didn't want to be late. Not to my first Away Team!"

Riker looked at her and sighed. "Well, I suppose you were relaxing when I found you, but no one expects you to know everything, Mia. You don't have to study through your off-duty hours."

"Yes, sir. But, sir -- "

"Cadet." Riker had finally had enough. "No more 'sirs'."

"S--I mean, Commander?"

"Mia, by now you must have noticed that on the _Enterprise_ we're not sticklers for etiquette. Every other word doesn't have to be 'sir.'"

"Yes, sir. I mean," Latham smiled at her slip, "I mean, yes, I'd noticed, but I thought that for me... well, I am just a cadet. The rest of you are so much older. Um, I mean, more experienced," she amended hastily.

Riker grinned. "Thank you. I appreciate the gesture of respect for my grey hairs, Mia, but you're making me feel even more ancient than I am. Just carry on like the rest of the crew; no one will be offended. Has the Academy really become this insistent upon military address?"

"No," Mia said, visibly startled by the question. "Except for formal occasions or drills, we never use it. But, sir, this is the _Enterprise_!"

"Mia! This is just another ship."

Latham looked at him pityingly. "Do you really believe that?"

Caught, Riker had to laugh. "No, I don't. But you've got to stop acting like a cadet on review. It's distracting!"

"But I feel like I'm on review!" Mia wailed. "I don't want to do anything wrong. I've got an opportunity that anyone in my class would trade their eyeteeth for, and I can't make any mistakes."

"Mia," Riker said patiently, "we know you're still in the middle of your studies. We don't expect you to know everything. Why do you think that midshipmen have training cruises? There's a lot that isn't covered in the Academy curriculum, and some of it can't be learned through the computer."

"But I don't feel like I know anything, Commander. The Academy's taught me a little about a lot of things, and a lot about a few things, but most of the things that you use every day I've never even seen before. So I study all night."

"That's got to stop," Riker ordered firmly. "It's not good for you, and it's not what the captain intended. You're supposed to be learning about all aspects of shipboard life, and you can't if you're half-asleep or stuck in your cabin reading computer files."

"But if I don't study, how will I learn?"

"I'm not saying you shouldn't study at all; of course you need to be familiar with your duty station, but you've already proven you know that. This extra material is unnecessary."

"But what if -- "

"Then you'll ask a question. Is that so awful?"

Mia looked uncomfortable. "It'll be a stupid question."

Riker's expression grew severe. "What's stupid, Cadet, is depriving yourself of sleep in order to research a question that someone could have answered in three minutes flat. Asking a question, especially at this stage of your career, is never stupid. And older officers can do more than simply answer the question; they can tell you about their experiences. You won't find that kind of information in the computer files!"

Latham nodded slowly. "I see what you mean."

"It goes beyond that. Captain Picard told you to take full advantage of your stay with us. That includes getting to know your shipmates and learning about other aspects of a Star Fleet career. Understand?"

"Yes, sir." At Riker's exasperated look, she grinned and tried again, "OK."

"Good. Now tell me something about the Essenians."

Mia stiffened to attention.

"No, no. Not an official report, just some background."

Latham relaxed. "Oh. All right. Well, the Essenian culture is based on a belief system which the society has held for over five thousand years. It -- " She broke off as Picard and Worf entered the room. "Hello, Captain. Lieutenant."

"Cadet Latham was just filling me in on Essenia, Captain," Riker explained.

"Oh?" Picard quirked an eyebrow at his First Officer. He knew perfectly well that Riker would never beam down to a planet without personally reviewing all relevant files, but if Riker wanted to give Latham the chance to conduct an informal briefing, he would play along. "Continue, Cadet."

"This belief system began as a primitive religion, full of superstition and ritual, but developed into a code of ethics by which modern Essenians live. It's a philosophy of nonviolence and calm acceptance of events. Most of the more primitive aspects have been discarded by now."

"Any taboos we need to be aware of?"

Latham thought a moment. "Not really, sir. As outsiders, we're granted a great deal of latitude in their society. Unintentional insults can be remedied with a simple apology. One suggestion though: don't ask an Essenian about his or her family; it's considered an invasion of privacy."

Picard nodded. "Noted. Shall we go?"

The Essenian delegation greeted them with quiet courtesy and immediately escorted them to a banquet in their honor. Despite O'Brien's dour predictions, most of the dishes were tasty, and the visit progressed smoothly.

After the meal, Dyshuu Ral, the Essenian prime minister, offered them a tour of the planet's main city. "Unless you would prefer to see something else?"

Latham looked at Picard. At his nod, she asked, "Dyshuu, would it be possible to visit the Great Temple?"

Ral looked surprised. "You wish to make a pilgrimage?"

"If it's permitted. I know this isn't the proper season, but I study different people's beliefs, and I'd enjoy seeing your holy place."

Dyshuu nodded. "Of course. Captain, is this your wish too?"

"Commander Riker and I would like to see the city, Dyshuu. I understand your new spaceport has recently been completed."

"Yes, Captain, and I've been looking forward to showing it to you. Esamon will escort Lt.Worf and Cadet Latham to the Temple."

Esamon was an old and somewhat vague Essenian, but he conducted them to the Great Temple promptly. Latham was quickly engrossed, but Worf, never much of an anthropology buff, was unmoved.

The Temple was an enormous edifice, carved out of and into the side of a mountain. Its construction was shrouded in legend, and it had served as the site of Essenian religious ritual for millenia. Corridors wended tortuous paths deep within the mountain, and the building resembled a fortress more than a place of worship. The walls were covered with ancient runes, which Latham eagerly examined.

"What do these say, Esamon?"

The old man shrugged. "No one has been able to read the ancient writings since before my father's father was a child."

"Oh," Latham said, disappointed. "They look sort of familiar to me. Do you recognize them, Worf?"

Worf glanced at them dubiously. "No."

"I keep thinking I've seen them before... Esamon, may I use my tricorder to try to decipher the writing?"

Esamon nodded. "If you wish, you may try. If it is the gods' will that we now understand the old tongue, it will be revealed to you."

Worf took advantage of the Essenian's moving aside to mutter to Latham, "You said they no longer believed in the superstitions."

"You can't expect those things to die out overnight, " she whispered back, "and here, at their holiest shrine, they're naturally going to linger longest. Besides, every society has some remnant of ancient totemisms."

"Not Klingon," Worf replied loftily. "From the early days of our civilization, Klingons have disdained such primitive practices."

"Not really," Latham objected. "It's true that your culture is remarkable for its early rejection of mysticism and supernatural explanations for natural phenomena, but you still have many practices that have no basis in logic. Many scholars feel that the entire Klingon honor code, with its rigid grounding in tradition, is totemic. Or the reverential view of the Empire? Most Klingons would sacrifice anything for the Empire, based on an unrealistic, worshipful image. It's an icon really, and the ideation is no different from ancient Earth concepts of God-Kings who ruled -- " Latham abruptly stopped. Worf's teeth grinding had reached an audible pitch, and Professor Babson's words suddenly came back to her: "Your subjects are unlikely to appreciate your insights into their society."

"On the other hand," Mia added smoothly, "that theory is quite controversial." She hastily turned back to the Essenian writings.

Worf glared after her, then turned to Esamon. "Why is no one else here?"

"This is not the normal time to make pilgrimage. Why would anyone come?"

"Wh--"

"Lieutenant, look at this!" Latham called over excitedly. She held out her tricorder. "See? These are the cave writings from Wynton III; see the similarities? The Wynts have four digits on each hand, just like the Essenians, and they developed a double binary code using base four. I bet that these runes use the same pattern!"

"Perhaps," Worf commented disinterestedly.

"Some of these other symbols are just basic hieroglyphics, common to a number of cultures...Here, look at this one. It means doorway or passage. And this one -- " Lathan looked more closely at the writing. "Lieutenant, I think this describes a secret passage! Esamon, have you ever heard of such a thing?"

"No. A passage hidden from view? Never."

"May I look for it?"

"If you like. Perhaps, if the gods will it, you will find one."

"Worf, come help me please. This stele says, something... something... 'passage hidden from prying eyes and' ... something... 'protected'?...Ah! Here we go: 'to enter the holy room' .. something...something... it has to do with purification rituals...'touch the second second stones and the gods will grant you passage'... something... 'to the secret room of holy learning'."

Mia spun back to Worf. "Worf! This might refer to a library! Can you imagine what it could contain? The insights into ancient Essenia would be -- "

"How do you find it?"

"Oh, right. Hmmm. Wait, remember the part about the 'second second stones of the gods'? Four, or the 'second second', was a holy number. I bet this means that if we press every fourth stone on the wall, it'll trigger the door mechanism!"

"Do you think it will still function?" Worf asked skeptically.

"Maybe! It's worth a try. That is, if we can, Esamon?"

The Essenian nodded. "May the gods grant you success."

"OK, Worf, you start on that side, and I'll begin here." Far from convinced, but lacking anything better to do, Worf obliged. "Some of these are -- oof -- sticking, but they do move if you -- ugh -- push," Mia panted. "Maybe it will -- "

A loud grating noise interrupted her speculations. Puzzled, she looked up just as Worf pushed her and Esamon aside. A massive grey shape rushed past, missing her by inches, then a deafening crash sent clouds of dust and rock chips flying.


	4. Chapter 4

_A loud grating noise interrupted her speculations. Puzzled, she looked up just as Worf pushed her and Esamon aside. A massive grey shape rushed past, missing her by inches, then a deafening crash sent clouds of dust and rock chips flying._

It took several seconds for the dust to clear and Mia to regain her bearings and realize what had happened. Triggered by their fumbling, an ancient, but still functional, booby trap had been sprung. A heavy stone weight, pointed at the end, had come swinging down from the ceiling and smashed into the wall where they had been standing.

"Esamon? Are you all right?" Mia coughed. "I apologize for the damage I --"

"I am fine, Cadet Latham, and do not apologize. This was the gods' doing, not yours. I grieve with you over the loss of your friend."

"Excuse me?"

Esamon pointed.

"WORF!" The Klingon had not escaped the trap. He hung, unconscious, pinned between the wall and the weight.

"_Enterprise_! Medical Emergency! Dr.Crusher to the planet immediately!"

"Crusher here. What's happened?"

Mia stared at Worf, too frightened to touch him. "It's Worf. I think -- he might be -- "

"Mia, what happened?" Crusher asked sharply.

"A stone weight -- it crushed him against a wall. He's still trapped there," Mia choked.

"O'Brien, direct transport. Now."

Crusher materialized at Mia's side. Hurrying to Worf, she pulled out her scanner. "It's all right, Mia. He's not dead."

"But -- the blood -- "

Crusher glanced at her. "Sit down."

"I -- I'm all right."

"Sit down! I don't have time to treat you too. You're about to pass out."

"I am not!" Mia protested, weakly indignant, but she sat down.

"O'Brien, beam me and Lt.Worf directly to Sickbay, and notify the surgical team."

"Anytime you're ready, Doctor."

"Mia -- " Crusher put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry."

Latham stared up at her pleadingly. "Will he be all right?"

"Yes...I think so. O'Brien, energize."

As soon as Worf and Crusher disappeared, Riker, Picard, and Dyshuu Ral beamed in. "What happened?" the captain demanded.

"It is the gods' will," Ral soothed.

"Thank you, Dyshuu." Picard forced a smile. "But I would still like to know what took place."

"Sir, I'd deciphered part of the writings on this wall. It refers to a hidden room, possibly a library. I was attempting, with Worf's help," Mia forced back tears at the mention of the Klingon's name, "to locate the passage. We -- I -- tripped a booby trap instead. Worf was caught th-there."

"This is amazing!" Dyshuu commented. "I've never heard of secret rooms or ancient traps!"

"Nor I," put in Esamon. "Else I would have warned them."

"The runes said nothing about traps?"

"N-not that I could see, Commander."

"Come see!" Dyshuu called. He had gone over to investigate the site of the accident. "Look here. There is a hole in the wall, and, see, a room behind!"

"The gods have granted us entrance!" Esamon cried.

"With some mortal assistance," Riker commented.

"What a remarkable discovery!" Ral marvelled. "We had no idea even to look for rooms like this."

"And the cadet can read the ancient writings," Esamon reminded him. "What other secret places might there be?"

Mia swallowed hard. "I don't think I could do any more exploring, Dyshuu, but I'll be happy to explain what I did to your archeologists."

"Thank you!"

"Excuse us, Dyshuu, but we must return to see to our injured colleague."

"Certainly, Captain, but I fear you will find that he is dead."

Mia turned ashen. "What?"

Ral pointed to the weight. Despite the blood that was present, a green sheen was visible on the sharp tip. "That's the sign of Charyb poison, very deadly. I sorrow with you."

"Thank you. _Enterprise_, three to beam directly to Sickbay."

On the ship, Crusher turned around as they appeared.

"How is he?" Picard asked immediately. "There was a poison -- "

Crusher nodded. "I saw the color on the stone and assumed as much. Happily, a scan showed that it's harmless to Klingons. It gave us one less thing to worry about."

"Is he going to be all right?" Riker asked.

"Yes; in fact, I'm surprised the injuries weren't more severe. He must have caught the stone as it came towards him. He couldn't stop it of course, but he slowed it down enough that the damage wasn't crippling. It's soft tissue damage mostly."

"He pushed me out of the way," Mia whispered.

"It's a good thing he did!" Crusher exclaimed. "You wouldn't have been as lucky. Klingon spines are much stronger than humans' -- you could never have escaped nerve damage."

Mia looked even sicker.

"Worf will be fit for duty in a few days," Crusher promised Picard. "I don't anticipate any complications." She paused, glancing at Mia. "Are the Essenians very upset at the damage?"

"On the contrary; they're delighted with the discovery," Picard replied. "You'll notify me of any change in Worf's condition, Doctor? Then, Cadet, I'll hear your complete report."

"Yes, sir." Mia nodded jerkily.

"Captain," Crusher intervened, eyeing Mia, "I'd like to check Mia over first. There was a lot of flying debris in an enclosed space. She may have received some cuts."

Picard nodded agreement and, followed by Riker, headed to the Bridge.

"I'm fine," Mia told Crusher unsteadily. Her eyes kept returning to where Dr.Selar was attending to Worf.

Crusher steered her away from the sight and into the second treatment room. "An emotional trauma has physical effects, too," she explained. "You need to take a few moments to settle down. Just rest here where I can monitor you, and in a short while, I'll release you."

Obediently Mia climbed onto the table. Perhaps the doctor was right; she _was _feeling a little shaky.

"Relax," Crusher said, dimming the lights, "and remind yourself that the lieutenant will be fine. I'll be back soon."

It was about 30 minutes before Crusher was satisfied that Latham would not be lapsing into shock, but she finally sent the cadet to Picard's Ready Room.

Latham entered on the heels of Picard's "Come" and caught a glimpse of Lt.Sifuentes from Anthropology on the viewer. "Sit down, Cadet," Picard said, switching off the screen. "I've just been talking to Esamon and the ship's anthropology section. Esamon's description of events makes it clear that you proceeded in a cautious manner, while Lt.Sifuentes informs me that the Essenians have been requesting a Federation anthropology team for years, for the very purpose of deciphering their ancient language. No suitable team has been available, until now, so it would seem that the Federation as well as the Essenians will welcome your discovery."

"Thank you, sir."

"Sifuentes also confirms that there are no reports of traps in Essenian shrines -- your finding is thus doubly remarkable!"

Mia didn't smile back.

"Cadet, from all appearances, you acted reasonably and with appropriate care. Lt.Worf's injury was in no way due to negligence or recklessness on your part."

Surprisingly, Picard's words did little to lessen Mia's guilt. "Thank you, sir," she repeated mechanically.

Picard looked at her more closely. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, sir." Mia pulled herself together. "Yes, sir. I'm fine, just a little shaken up."

"That's entirely understandable. The Essenians are looking forward to your report on those runes; why don't you spend the next few days writing it? I'll inform Commander Riker that you're to be taken off Bridge duty temporarily."

"Yes, sir." Mia managed a credible smile as she stood up to go.

Picard raised a restraining hand. "One moment, Cadet. I'm afraid there's some more news."

"Sir?" Mia sat down again.

"While we were on the surface, a message from Star Fleet Command came in. They've decided an official investigation into your experiences on Arcadia is warranted, so you should prepare a statement concerning your actions on

the planet. After you return to the Academy, a formal hearing will convene."

Mia stared at him. "What are they investigating for?"

"Prime Directive infractions," Picard said dismissively. "It's a routine procedure. Nothing to worry about."

"I see," Mia gulped. "Thank you, sir. Will that be all?"

Picard nodded, reaching for a databoard. "I'll tell the Essenians you'll transmit your report to them within the week."


	5. Chapter 5

Given Mia's assignment to prepare a "Rosetta Stone" for the Essenians, Picard paid no attention to her absence from the Bridge. Even after Worf had returned, fully recovered, Picard assumed that Mia's work was keeping her out of sight. Finally, Troi asked to see him.

"You must speak to Mia," she told him, brow creased with worry.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, startled.

Troi sighed. "Yes. She is experiencing a crisis in her self-confidence, and it is severe enough to make her reconsider a career in Star Fleet."

Picard was astounded. "Why? Everything she's done over the past two weeks has demonstrated talent and initiative."

"That's not her perception. She believes she was responsible for Worf's accident, and -- "

"That's ridiculous. I explicitly _told _her she was not at fault, and besides, Counsellor, Worf was the commanding officer, not she."

"Officially perhaps, but since she was the anthropology expert and the instigator of the search, she feels as though she were the leader of the Away Team -- one in which a member was hurt."

"That is a sensation with which all of us must come to terms," Picard retorted. "There's nothing unusual about that."

"When did you first lead a mission on which someone died?" Troi asked quietly.

Troi felt Picard's mental barriers snap up, shielding his emotions. The question had been rhetorical; Troi knew the answer, but she wanted to remind Picard of the agony of self-doubt that had followed the loss. "You were a lieutenant," she continued gently, "with three years' experience leading Away Teams and several more serving on them. You were able to evaluate your actions in the light of that experience and convince yourself -- correctly -- that you were not at fault. Also, you had the emotional maturity and training to handle the responsibilities of command. Latham has not.

"Worf's injury precipiated a crisis for her which, despite her youth, she might have been able to weather. But when she learned of the Arcadian investigation, she saw that as official notice that she had acted improperly there, and her already shaky self-confidence was shattered."

"I told her it was merely routine."

"She didn't believe you."

Picard's eyebrows rose. "I beg your pardon?"

Troi smiled. "She thought you were being kind; after all, your next action was to remove her from Bridge duty, which she assumed you did because you didn't trust her any longer."

"Counsellor, this is absurd. I temporarily relieved her of her Bridge assignment so that she could prepare her reports for Essenia and Star Fleet Command. It had nothing to do with her competence."

"I am aware of that, Captain, but Mia isn't. Just being on the _Enterprise_ has been a tremendous stress for her -- she wants so much to do well -- and these two experiences may prove too much for her to deal with on her own."

Picard pulled at his lower lip. "Was it a mistake to grant her temporary duty? Was the strain too much, too soon?"

Troi considered. "No, I don't think so. Mia is extremely able, and a certain amount of stress is not necessarily harmful. But she does have a tendency to hold herself responsible for things that are beyond her control, and these two instances were unfortunately timed. One or the other she could likely have withstood and learned from, but both simultaneously?

"Captain, unless someone for whom she has great respect can convince her that she acted correctly, I don't believe she will ever regain her confidence. Even if she remains in Star Fleet, she won't place herself in a command position again, and perhaps she will even refuse to embark on field studies."

"Can't you -- "

"I think she has to hear it from you, Captain," Troi said firmly.

Picard sighed, then nodded. "Very well."

Troi smiled approvingly. "You'll find her on the holodeck."

Minutes later, Picard stepped onto the holodeck and nearly collided with a tree. A dense forest glen greeted his eyes, reminiscent of the timber stands of North America. Carefully maneuvering around the branches, Picard set out in search of Mia. The trees widened into a clearing up ahead, and the sound of rushing water came to his ears. Mia was seated by the bank of the stream, dangling her bare feet over the edge and staring broodingly into the water.

"May I join you?" Picard asked, coming up behind her.

"Captain!" Latham struggled to rise.

Picard forestalled her with a wave of his hand and seated himself beside her. "This is a pleasant program."

"Yes, sir, it is. Would you like to use the holodeck? I was just about to leave."

"No, no. Stay. I'd like to talk to you."

"If it's about the Essenian report, sir, it's nearly ready. Lt.Sifuentes is just reading it over for me. And my report on Arcadia--"

"Your conscientiousness is not in question, Mia."

Mia hung her head. "Just my competence, right?"

"Excuse me?"

"Star Fleet Command made it clear enough, didn't they? Why would they investigate if they didn't think I had made a mistake?"

"I see. Star Fleet only convenes a hearing or court-martial if someone is at fault?"

Mia nodded.

"Then what was my error at Maxia Zeta?"

Mia looked puzzled. "Captain?"

"You are aware that my ship encountered a Ferengi vessel at Maxia and -- "

"Oh, yes, sir! That's when you invented 'The Picard Maneuver'. We studied it at the Academy, but I don't understand what you mean by your 'error'. You did nothing wrong there. You destroyed the enemy and saved your ship!"

"Yet I was court-martialled."

"And acquitted! I didn't mean to imply that _you _had done something wrong."

"Then why was there a court-martial?"

"It's routine whenever a ship is lost," Mia replied automatically.

"When I told you the same thing about Prime Directive inquiries, you didn't believe me," Picard reminded her.

Latham blushed. "I'm sorry. I thought you were just saying it."

"Cadet!" Picard glared at her frostily. "I do not 'just say' things!"

"Yes, sir," Mia replied meekly.

"Lt.Worf has also stated that you were not responsible for his injuries. Do you believe he was 'just saying it' as well?"

Mia shook her head, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards. "I don't think that's a Klingon trait."

"Star Fleet Command takes the Prime Directive very seriously, as seriously as the loss of a ship in fact. Is it surprising to you that there would be formalities associated with Prime Directive issues?"

"N-no," Mia said slowly. "Not when you put it that way. So they really don't think I was at fault? That I provoked the war?"

"Your report makes it clear that that society exists in a state of perpetual war; you merely witnessed one of the minor skirmishes. And you were not even the one who chose the society, were you?"

"No. Professor Babson assigned it to me, although once I'd arrived and begun to learn about the culture, I started to wonder if my presence wouldn't serve to destabilize the region. Which it did."

"At which point you called for evacuation. Babson's judgement may have been in error, but yours was not. I have no doubt that the hearing will reach the same conclusion."

Mia smiled for the first time in a week. "Thanks!"

"With that in mind, I'd like you to reconsider what happened on Essenia. Counsellor Troi tells me that you feel at fault."

"I just think I should have foreseen it! I nearly killed us all!"

"What should have led you to anticipate a trap? Sifuentes says there was nothing about it in the runes or Essenian history."

"I know. It's not so much that I _could _have known about it as that I _should _have."

"With that sort of reasoning you belong in Primary Logic, not Star Fleet Academy!" Picard snapped impatiently. "There will be enough times when you do make a mistake and bear a responsibility for an outcome, that you don't need to invent more. Accepting the idea that some things are beyond your control is just as difficult as accepting responsibility for the things that are not, but it is a lesson which you must learn."

"But if I wasn't at fault, then who was?"

"There's not always someone to blame, Mia. As a commander, the temptation is always present to hold yourself accountable for everything that happens. But that's not correct. You are responsible for a great deal, but not for everything, and the inability to come to terms with that is what causes many promising young officers to fail."

Mia nodded slowly, thinking. "I understand."

"You may decide that you don't wish to assume the responsibilities of command, but don't make that decision based on a misapprehension about your abilities."

"Yes, sir," Mia said shyly. "Thank you, Captain."

Picard nodded uneasily. Gratitude made him uncomfortable. "I'll inform Commander Riker that you'll return to Bridge duty tomorrow. Oh, and Cadet, if I ever remove you from duty for incompetence, you'll know it."

Mia grinned. "Yes, sir. I'm sure I will."


	6. Chapter 6

Picard's words were as effective as Troi had hoped and Mia returned to regular duty. Their next several stops were routine, but at the last stop before Magellan, Picard asked Troi whether Latham was ready to join another Away Team.

"It's a resupply stop, nothing more," Picard explained, "but I felt she should beam down once more before returning to the Academy."

Troi agreed. "I think it would cement her newfound confidence."

"Excellent."

The planet was a small forested world, reportedly devoid of sentient life. The _Enterprise_'s mission was to deliver new supplies to a five person botanical survey team, and the ship's landing party consisted of Geordi and Mia.

"I think Troi nudged the captain into sending me down, Geordi," Mia confided, a bit embarrassed. "I don't know anything about the planet."

"What's to know?" Geordi smiled back, lifting equipment onto the transporter platform. "It's not like there's a civilization there. All we have to do is drop off some new machinery for them, and you're helping me out just by carrying some of this stuff."

Mia glanced at the object she had in her hands. "What is this thing anyway?"

"That's something special. Make sure you don't drop it."

Mia sniffed. "Just because I'm not an engineer doesn't mean I can't understand technical terms. You could at least tell me its name."

Geordi grinned. "Harold."

Mia rolled her eyes. "Ha ha."

"OK, Chief. Energize."

A moment later they materialized on the planet. "Smells nice," Mia commented, sniffing appreciatively. "Green."

"And the wind is out of the north today. You should visit when it blows from the west, over the meadows. You can drink the fragrance of the flowers." The speaker came forward, hand extended. "Hi, I'm Frank Towers, chief botanist."

"Hi. Geordi LaForge, chief engineer of the USS _Enterprise_, and this is Mia Latham."

"Hello."

"I head up the survey team. I"m afraid the other members are out gathering specimens right now, but I hope they'll be back in time to meet you. We've been looking forward to your visit for a long time; it gets pretty dull out here. Classifying plants wears thin after the first continent or two."

"No native predators to keep you on your toes?"

Towers shook his head. "'Fraid not. The worst thing we've encountered is a twelve legged insect that likes to eat plastic. Annoying, but hardly cause for alarm. What have you got for us, Commander?"

"A new generator, spare power cells, eight cases of..." Geordi reeled off the list, pointing out each item in turn, while Mia looked about curiously.

"That's terrific! We've needed a lot of this stuff, but I don't know quite how we're going to get all of it into the compound. The generator alone looks like it'll take several people to carry it."

Geordi grinned. "I saved the best for last. Hey, Mia, bring that thing over here." He took the device from her, then pointed it at the generator and activated it. A low hum began, then the generator rose and hovered several inches off the ground.

"How are you doing that?" Mia asked, open mouthed.

"Someone on the ship designed this a few years ago as a science project. It works like a tractor field in reverse and lets you pick things up and move them around. See?"

"But there's no beam visible," Towers commented. "How can you be sure you've got it?"

"You can't see it?" Geordi looked at him in surprise. "Damn! I thought it was in the visible spectrum. OK, Frank, after we get the stuff moved in where it belongs, I'll rewire this for you. It won't take me long to change the wavelength to one you can see."

"Hey, Geordi, can it pick up anything?" Mia asked mischievously.

"Are you thinking what I think you're thinking?"

"Aw, come on, Geordi," Mia begged. "Give me a boost so that I can look around."

As Frank watched, grinning, Geordi carefully lowered the generator, then pointed the beam at Mia.

"Oh boy!" she squeaked as she rose into the air. "This is great!"

"Move her over to the left, Geordi," Frank suggested, "and lift her over the trees. Then she'll be able to see the mountain range."

"Ooh, it's beautiful!" Mia called down to them as, under Geordi's direction, she swooped and soared. "I've never seen so many different flowers!"

"Can you loop the loop?" Frank asked Geordi.

"Hang on, Mia!" Geordi shouted.

"Wow!" Mia yelped. "It's a good thing I don't get airsick. Oh, Geordi, wait a minute! Frank, what's that?" she asked, pointing down and to her left.

There, just visible at the edge of the trees, was a small, furry creature. A little less than a meter tall, it balanced on its hind legs and regarded the humans with obvious curiosity. A long prehensile tail curled about its feet and delicate fingers clutched a vine.

"That's some of the local fauna," Frank explained. "We haven't gotten around to naming it yet. You're lucky to see one; I don't think we've seen a dozen of them in the eight months we've been here. They live deeper in the forest, I guess."

"He's awfully cute. And he looks so serious!" Mia laughed.

As if in response to the humans' scrutiny, the little creature turned around, and, swinging from vine to vine, retreated into the trees.

"I guess he had a pressing engagement!" Mia called.

"So do we," Geordi reminded her, bringing her down to earth literally and figuratively. "We need to get this equipment set up for Frank's group."

"OK," Mia said agreeably, swinging one of the packs onto her shoulder. "Where do you want this one, Frank?"

Three hours later, the last of the equipment was in place. "Well, Frank, I guess that's it," Geordi said, dusting off his hands as the three of them walked back outside.

"Do you have to leave now?" Towers asked regretfully. "The others will be back in an hour or so, and we'd be pleased if you'd stay for dinner. Some of the native plants are delicious."

"Sorry, but my orders are to beam up as soon as possible," Geordi apologized. "We're on a fairly tight schedule."

Towers nodded, sighing. "I understand. It's just that we see so few new faces that visitors are a real event for us. After eight months with the same five people, just talking to someone new is exciting."

"Why did you volunteer for this type of assignment?" Mia asked quizzically.

"Oh, don't get me wrong, Mia. We all like what we're doing -- usually. But you need something to break the monotony every once in a while."

Geordi looked thoughtful. "If you'd like, I could send some new programs down from the ship. Or maybe a -- Look out!"

His shout came too late. Suddenly, from out of nowhere, dozens of the small, furry creatures that they had seen earlier popped up around them. Each was spinning a length of vine around its head, with rocks fastened to the ends. Before the humans could react, several had loosed their primitive bolas. Though crude, the weapons were effective, and their aim was true; as the vines twined about the humans' necks, the rocks struck their heads and knocked them unconscious.


	7. Chapter 7

The next thing Geordi knew, a stranger was pressing something cool to his head. "What -- ?" he struggled to sit up.

"Take it easy," the man cautioned. "You've had a nasty knock. How do you feel?"

"Like I got hit in the head with a rock," Geordi retorted tartly.

The man grinned. "I'm Jeb Tanaka, the station's medical officer. Can you tell me what happened?"

"Those little -- animals. They attacked us!"

"That's impossible!" A woman came into view. "They're not capable of organized thought."

"Oh, yeah? They're capable of enough organized thought to make and use bolas AND to set up a pretty effective ambush."

"But that would imply sentience, and the preliminary survey teams said -- "

"Obviously, they were wrong, Clarissa." Towers wobbled in, a bandage around his head and a man supporting him on either side. "Are you all right, Commander?"

Geordi nodded, then winced. "How long was I out?"

"We arrived back at base about fifteen minutes ago, but we didn't find the two of you immediately," Tanaka answered. "Maybe you had better contact your ship and -- "

"The two of us?" Geordi interrupted. "What about Mia?"

"Who?" Clarissa asked blankly. "There were only you two."

"Oh my God," Towers looked sick. "She was with us when they attacked. If she wasn't there when the rest of you arrived, they must have taken her."

"Wait a minute," Tanaka cautioned. "Could she have panicked and run off?"

"Not Mia." Geordi shook his head. "She would have contacted the ship."

"I still can't believe those creatures are capable of planning and executing something like this! If they're sentient, why haven't they contacted us before now?" Clarissa demanded.

"I don't know, but I'll worry about their motivation later," Geordi snapped. "Right now we've got to get her back. LaForge to _Enterprise_."

"Yes, Mr.LaForge," Picard's voice replied in a moment. "Are you and Latham ready to beam up? We had expected you earlier."

"Captain, we have a problem. Mia's been kidnapped by natives."

"Explain!" On the Bridge, Riker leapt to his feet, coming to stand beside Picard.

"Approximately one hour ago, Dr.Towers, Mia, and I were attacked by some kind of indigenous life form which had previously been labelled pre-sentient. They used primitive weapons and demonstrated basic strategy, though, so it seems that assessment was in error. The rest of the survey team arrived a few minutes ago, discovered Dr.Towers and me, and revived us, but Mia is missing."

"Data, can you get a lock on her communicator?" Riker asked swiftly.

"No, sir. It must have been damaged."

"Captain Picard, this is Frank Towers. I request that you beam the five members of my team up to your ship at once. We have no weapons, and if those creatures decide to attack again... "

"Understood. Transporter Room, beam up six from the planet."

Picard and Riker met them in the transporter room. "I need more information, Geordi," Riker said. "What do they look like? What kind of weapons did they use? Why would they take Mia?"

"Let's move this to the Briefing Room," Picard suggested. "Dr.Towers, would you accompany us? Chief, have Security send someone to escort the other members of Dr.Towers' team to their quarters."

"I still don't understand why they would take Mia!" Geordi exclaimed several minutes later. He and Towers had told their story in complete detail, but they were not much closer to recovering Latham.

Worf glanced at Picard. "She would have been the lightest to carry away."

"But why, Worf?" Geordi demanded.

"Perhaps for food," Data suggested. "Many primitive societies practice -- "

"Thank you, Mr.Data," Picard interrupted. Geordi sank into his seat, looking ill. The captain continued, "Why should they begin attacks now, after the survey station has been established for several months?"

"I don't know, Captain," Towers said regretfully. "And I wish I could provide you with more information on the creatures. But we're botanists, not zoologists, and besides, we almost never saw the little beggars!"

"Can sensors pick up Latham? She should be the only human on the planet."

"Unfortunately," Data replied, "there is some interference with the sensors that we have been unable to identify. We can locate life forms, but we are not able to distinguish between the various native fauna and humans."

"And the planet is crawling with animal life," Towers added. "You can't possibly chase down every sensor reading."

"Perhaps we could employ the infrared sensors," Data suggested.

"Same problem, Data." Riker replied. "All the animals will give off heat too."

"That is correct, Commander," Data agreed, "but if the native culture has mastered fire, then they will most likely be clustered in small groups with very high infrared readings. The lower animals, on the other hand, will -- "

"Make it so, Mr.Data," Picard ordered decisively.

"Yes, sir. It will be night on that area of the planet in twenty minutes; the infrared scans will work best when the sun is down."

"I'll help you reconfigure the scanners, Data." Geordi rose to his feet.

"Mr.LaForge, first have the doctor attend to your wounds," Picard ordered.

"But, Captain -- "

"Sickbay first, Geordi."

Geordi wasn't happy, but he obeyed.

Towers looked at Picard. "I feel terrible about this, Captain. If I'd had any idea -- "

"You're not responsible, Doctor. If something like this had to happen, I'm glad we were here when it did. Why don't you stop by Sickbay as well?"

Towers nodded and left.

"Number One, even if the infrared scans can't pinpoint Mia's position, I want you to have an Away Team on the ground at first light. If necessary, we'll track the creatures from the site of the attack."

"We could go now, sir," Riker said. "With our lights we could -- "

Picard shook his head. "Tracking arboreal creatures on unfamiliar terrain will be difficult enough in the daytime. Mia's abduction indicates that the natives are interested in her for some reason. Hopefully that interest will safeguard her, at least for a short period."


	8. Chapter 8

Like Geordi, Mia awoke to coolness bathing her throbbing head. Unlike LaForge, however, when she opened her eyes, she found herself in completely unfamiliar surroundings, and she sat up with a jerk.

The small creature who'd been patting her head with wet moss jumped back with a screech of alarm, which Mia very nearly echoed. She was on a huge platform of roughly shaped logs, surrounded by greenery on all sides. As she stared about in confusion, dozens of the creatures scurried towards her from all directions. Most swung in on vines, but several clambered along thick branches. Mia scrabbled backwards, away from them, until her back fetched up against a tree trunk. Startled, she looked down and, through a crack in the logs beneath her, saw that the platform she was on was wedged in a tree at least thirty meters above the forest floor. Mia had never been frightened of heights, but she found herself clutching the treetrunk convulsively.

One of the creatures, larger than most and with grey streaked fur, sidled close to her. It chirped at her curiously, extending its arm, palm up.

Mia took a deep breath. "OK, Latham, time to apply your anthro studies. They're clearly sentient, probably pre-lingual, but they're trying to communicate. Let's see what you can do." Slowly, she extended her own hand and, meeting no resistance, gently placed it on top of the native's.

It clucked at her, sounding almost approving, and she mimicked the tones. The audience burst into noisy hoots and chirps at her echo, a sign she took as encouraging.

The native withdrew its hand -- no, his hand, Mia decided -- and rapped his chest with it, simultaneously grunting.

"Uunka?" Mia echoed. "Your name is Uunka?"

The native hooted and hopped up and down in excitement.

Mia began to giggle. "Hi, Uunka. Me Jane."

Uunka reached forward and tapped Mia's chest, repeating the chirp he'd made earlier.

"Mia," she replied slowly. "Mia."

Uunka moved his mouth around experimentally, but apparently decided against trying it.

"Uunka," Mia said tentatively, "why Mia here?" She tapped her chest at her name, then the logs beneath her on "here", finishing her question with the same chirp Uunka had used when he questioned her.

She had to repeat herself a few times, but eventually the message got through. Uunka pointed to her, then to the sky, growling and hooting something.

"What?" Mia stared at him in confusion. "I don't understand. What are you trying to say? You can't possibly know that I came from the sky."

As Uunka was clearly not getting his message across, the other members of his tribe tried to help. Soon Mia was trying to sort out thirty different grunts and gestures. "What? What?" she repeated, a rising sense of frustration and fear growing within her. "What about me and the sky?"

Finally Uunka grabbed a small child from the arms of one of the other natives. He pointed first to Mia, then to the baby, then tapped the baby and grunted, "Mmmma."

"That's me?" Mia asked. She pointed to herself, then to the baby. "Mia?"

Uunka gave his approval grunt, then lifted the baby and moved it through the air. "Mmma. Ahhcha. Ahhcha."

A light dawned. "Ahhcha means flying? Mia flying? Oh! You saw me in the air before, and you think I can fly?" She began to laugh, a bit hysterically. "No, no, Uunka. Mia no ahhcha. No. No. No." She shook her head violently, gesturing that he should put the baby down. "No ahhcha." She pointed to herself, then the sky, then shook her head again.

Another native, this one with black spots in his fur, came forward, clearly agitated. "Ahhcha!" he cried, pointing at her. "Ahhcha!"

"Look, you may have seen me in the air before, but I can't do it now," Mia said, trying to make them understand. "I can't explain why I could do it before, but I can't possibly fly now."

Uunka looked from her to the other native and back again, then turned to his tribe and rattled off a string of commands, punctuated by hand signals. The audience responded by surging towards Mia.

"Hey, wait!" she cried, crawling away from them. "Take it easy! I don't mean any harm!"

The natives continued to approach, and Mia found herself at the very edge of the platform. Climbing to her feet, she made pushing motions. "No!" she yelled. "Go away!"

Her shouts made no impact, but at a grunt from Uunka, the others stopped. Mia teetered on the edge, fighting to keep her balance. "Uunka!"

"Ahhcha!" he commanded.

"I can't!" she wailed. "No ahhcha!"

Uunka brought his hand around in a lightning-quick motion and a bola wrapped around Mia's ankles. With a scream, she fell backwards off the platform.

She plummeted through the air, face scratched by twigs and arms flailing for something to grab. She had fallen perhaps twenty meters when she hit a net. Woven out of fibers so fine that it was almost invisible, it was nevertheless strong enough to break her fall. It bent beneath her, then flung her back upwards to bounce down a second time. By the time she came to a rest in the center of the net, several bounces later, Mia had almost stopped screaming. "S-s-s-some trampoline ride," she said shakily to herself. "I guess I'm not dead yet."

Uunka and the others swung down alongside her. Hanging from a nearby branch by his tail, Uunka chirped questioningly at her.

"NO AHHCHA!" she yelled at him. "NONONO!"

The audience yowled at each other, taken aback by her vehemence. Uunka regarded her with what Mia tentatively labelled a puzzled frown.

"I know," she told him. "You're wondering why I won't oblige you by flying when you know I can. But I can't. Honest. It was a stupid machine, Uunka, not me!"

Uunka motioned to the others, and several reached out and took hold of Mia. Supported by a dozen hands, she was lifted back up to the platform ("village," she corrected herself), where Uunka stared at her contemplatively.

"What now?" Mia asked uneasily. "Since I've turned out to be a dud as a flyer, do I get to go? Mia go?" she asked Uunka, pointing first to herself and then pointing away.

"Go?" Uunka echoed, adding the question chirp and imitating her gesture.

"You know, go away. Back home. Where you found me." Uunka just chirped at her again, and Mia gave up in despair. "How can I make you understand?"

Another native approached Uunka, carrying some kind of steaming mush in a broad leaf. Uunka accepted the leaf and began to eat the mush. He used his fingers with surprising delicacy, carefully avoiding his fur.

"Mmmma?" Another native offered a leaf to Mia.

"Thank you," she said, taking it. She sniffed the mush nervously, but the fragrance was encouraging.

The native who'd handed it to her was watching her. At Mia's glance, she tapped her chest. "Haataa."

"Haataa," Mia echoed. "Pleased to meet you." She pointed to the mush and made the question chirp.

Haataa replied, "Umu."

"Umu?" Mia repeated.

"Umu." Haataa reached out and scooped up a handful of the food and touched it to Mia's lips. "Umu."

With a silent prayer that the food was nonpoisonous to humans, Mia took the morsel of food. Gourmet fare it wasn't, but it was at least as good as Star Fleet Academy oatmeal.

"Ahloo," Haataa said approvingly, patting Mia gently on the arm.

"I'm glad you're pleased," Mia muttered. "But I wish I knew what you were going to do with me."

When she had finished the umu, she looked around, but none of the natives seemed particularly interested in her any longer. Uunka was deep in some sort of heated exchange with several other natives, and from the amount of gesticulation, Mia decided it probably wasn't prudent to approach. Haataa had disappeared, and all the others were busy with one task or another. Mia wandered over to one of

the groups, made up of parents and children. She was greeted with curious looks, but no signs of hostility.

She contemplated attempting escape, but quickly decided against it. Even assuming she could reach the forest floor safely, she had no idea which way the station was, and the last thing she wanted to do was run into a less friendly tribe.

Having decided to stay put and wait for the ship to find her, Mia felt she might as well try to learn as much about the natives as she could. "Mia," she said, introducing herself to the group. She pointed to the nearest baby. "Who's that?" she asked, adding the proper chirp.

The baby's mother (father?) held out the child. "Alla."

Mia wasn't sure whether "Alla" was the generic term for child, or that particular baby's name, but she repeated the word and gently stroked the baby's arm, much as Haataa had touched her earlier.

The mother chirped at her, still holding out the baby.

"I can hold him?" Mia asked in surprise. "Thank you!" Slowly, so as to make sure she understood the offer correctly, she slid her hands under Alla. The mother grunted approvingly.

"He's so little." Mia smiled down at the baby.

"Umu," the mother said, holding out a leaf of the food.

"Umu for Alla?" Mia chirped, pointing from food to baby. At the mother's affirmative grunt, Mia carefully began to feed the baby.

The mother watched, reaching out to catch Mia's hand when Alla had had enough, but not yet reclaiming the child.

"You're adorable," Mia cooed, cuddling Alla. "Yes, you are. You're the cutest little whatever-you-are I've ever seen."

"Mmma! Mmma!" Uunka called .

The mother hastily reclaimed Alla, and Mia hurried over to where Uunka was waiting. She'd already tentatively labelled him the village chief.

"Uunka?" she asked, chirping at the end of the word.

"Hachh," he replied, holding up a bola.

"Hachh," Mia echoed, not understanding.

"Luthaa," Uunka continued, pointing to his hand.

"A language lesson!" Mia exclaimed in delight. "Great!"

"Luthaa!" Uunka repeated loudly, giving her a severe look.

"Luthaa," she hastily repeated. "Right. Concentrate on business. Gotcha. Hachh. Luthaa."

Mia's vocabulary had expanded to nearly fifty words when Haataa appeared and tugged on Uunka's arm. "Elu," she said, pointing at the sky. "Chhna."

Mia looked up, startled. She hadn't noticed how dark it had gotten.

Uunka grunted at Haataa, then turned back to Mia. "Elu," he repeated, pointing to the sky.

"Elu. Night," Mia said. "Elu."

Uunka pointed to where other members of the tribe were sleeping around them. "Chhna."

"Chhna. Is it time for sleep then?"

"Chhna," Haataa said firmly, adding the bark of command.

"Uunka," Mia held up a hand, forestalling the end of the lesson. "Will you take me home tomorrow? Uunka rataa neesh luatu?" she chirped. The words relied heavily on the concomitant gestures for their meaning, but Mia was pretty sure she'd gotten them all right.

"Eesh. Rataa luatu," Uunka replied.

"Thank you!" Mia sagged in relief. She hadn't really thought that the natives would harm her, not after they'd snagged her with that net, but this was the first time that Uunka had actually agreed to take her back.

Haataa took her by the arm. "Chhna!" she barked, pulling her over to a spot by the fire. "Chhna!"

"Yes, ma'am. Eesh, eesh," Mia laughed. "Lights out; I understand. I'll chhna, I promise."

Mia slept well, much to her own surprise, and was roused just before dawn by Haataa.

"Umu?" Haataa offered.

"Huch," Mia declined. "I don't suppose you've got any coffee?"

Haataa pulled her over to the fire where Uunka and the rest of the tribe were eating. "Neepa?" she pressed, offering a bunch of native grapes.

More to satisfy Haataa than out of hunger, Mia accepted them and popped one into her mouth. She had lots of questions she wanted to ask before Uunka took her back to the station.

"Uunka," Mia caught his attention, "what do you people call yourselves?" Not knowing how to phrase the question in the primitive native language, she swung out her hand to encompass the entire tribe, then added the question chirp.

Uunka looked at her a moment, then slowly replied, "Uunka. Haataa. Alla -- "

"Huch, huch," Mia shook her head. "I wasn't asking what everyone's names are; I was asking -- hmmm, how can I make you understand?" Casting around for some means of communication, her eye fell on the bunch of grapes. "Aha!" Mia plucked a few off the vine, crushed them on one of the ubiquitous leaves, then dipped a finger in the juice. "It's not great ink, but it'll do."

Drawing on the floor of the platform, Mia sketched several stick figures in the shape of the natives. "Uunka," she said, pointing to one of them. "Haataa." She pointed to another. Then she drew a circle around the entire group and chirped.

Uunka hooted in excitement, indicating that he finally understood. "Meewop," he told her, gesturing at the tribe.

"Meewop?" she repeated, fighting down giggles. "What a great name! It suits you; really it does."

Uunka pointed at her and chirped.

"What am I?" she echoed. "Fair question." She drew several stick figure humans, then pointed to them. "Human."

"Huma?" Uunka repeated.

"Eesh," Mia confirmed.

Uunka reached out and rubbed his finger in Mia's makeshift inkwell, then drew a line underneath the Meewop figures. "Uchama," he said.

"Uchama, that means land or world?" Mia guessed. "OK, I understand."

"Meewop, Uchama," Uunka said, tapping first the figures, then the line. "Meewop, Uchama. Huma...?" After a pause, he chirped questioningly.

"Oh boy," Mia gulped. "Are you asking what I think you are?"

"Meewop, Uchama," Uunka repeated, his tone louder. "Huma...?"

"What's the Prime Directive say about this?" Mia wondered to herself. "How do I tell a pre-lingual tribesman that I come from another planet? Societies at this stage aren't even supposed to learn that we exist! Somebody on that original survey team is gonna be in a lot of trouble when I get back!"

"Mma!" Uunka's voice was very loud now, and the expression on his face was one that Mia had labelled angry impatience. In fact, it rather reminded her of the look of an exasperated Professor Babson.

"Eesh," she held up her hand, trying to collect her thoughts. "OK, how about this?" She drew a line under her humans -- "Federation." -- then drew a dotted line connecting her human group with the Meewop group. "Mia luata Uchama," she explained, drawing a human in the Meewop group and indicating with her finger the path between the two. "See? I'm just visiting."

Uunka wasn't satisfied. "Uchama," he grunted, pointing down. "Federaa...?" He raised his hands and pointed randomly about.

"You want the details, huh?" Mia said unhappily. "Where exactly is the Federation?" She took a deep breath. "This might take a while."


	9. Chapter 9

Back on the ship, Riker, Data, Geordi, and Worf were getting last minute instructions from Picard. "We know nothing about this society, Number One, so be careful, and try to minimize contact with them. If they're as primitive as their weapons would indicate, this could be a Prime Directive issue."

Riker nodded. "Understood."

"The infrared scans provided us with several likely targets," Data informed the captain. "We will start with the ones closest to the station."

""Once we're on the planet, our tricorders will help locate her," Geordi added. "Unfortunately, their range is pretty limited."

"Good luck," Picard said gravely.

"O'Brien, set us down about 100 meters from the largest stationary signal," Riker ordered.

The chief nodded, then proceeded with the transportation.

As soon as they materialized, Data took out his tricorder to try to get a fix on Latham. The others looked around, dwarfed by the enormous trees.

"And I thought redwoods were big," Riker commented to Geordi.

"This area is perfect for an ambush," Worf warned darkly. The trees blocked most of the sunlight, and hanging vines obscured their path.

"I am reading a human 150 meters away in that direction," Data informed them.

"Phasers on stun," Riker said, "and let's keep our eyes open."

"How do you say 'cultural exchange'?" Mia wondered aloud, staring back at Uunka. "Wouldn't you rather be showing me how you make umu?"

Uunka's reply was interrupted by three young Meewops who scrambled onto the platform and rushed over to the chief, chattering excitedly. "Huma, huma!" they screeched, pointing towards the ground.

"Humans? Below us?" Mia interrupted. "Now?" She dropped to the platform floor and peered between the logs. "Commander!"

On the ground, the four men's heads jerked up.

"Mia?"

"I'll be right down!" Mia turned to Uunka. "Uunka how do I get down there?" She motioned to the ground and chirped.

Uunka indicated a nearby vine, and Mia grabbed hold of it. After a quick tug to make sure it would bear her weight, she shinnied down it, thumping to the ground in front of the Away Team. The entire tribe followed her, but remained at a wary distance from the men.

Though her first impulse was to give hugs all around, Mia limited herself to a heartfelt, "Commander, I am very glad to see you!"

"The feeling's mutual," Riker replied. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, sir. The Meewops were very hospitable."

"Meewops?" Data asked, looking around at the tribe who returned his gaze with curious stares of their own.

Mia nodded. "That one is Uunka, their chief."

"I take it this is a sentient culture?" Riker asked.

"Oh, yes! Their language skills are still pretty minimal, but they're definitely sentient. Uunka demanded some pretty specific explanations about our presence here, but I think I satisfied him. For the time being, at least."

"What did you tell him?"

"That we came from far away. That was about all my Meewop vocabulary could manage, although I think Uunka wanted actual directions."

Perhaps attracted by the sound of his name, the Meewop chief came forward. "Uunka!"

"Uunka, this is Riker," Mia explained. "He's a friend of mine -- mapau."

"Rika huma," Uunka said, then pointed to Worf and Data and chirped. "Huma?"

"Uh... " Mia looked at Riker. "He wants to know whether Worf and Data are human, sir."

Uunka reached forward and touched Data's hand lightly. "Huch huma!" He moved towards Worf, but a low hiss from the Klingon halted him. "Huma?"

"Tell him the truth," Riker ordered, "but don't elaborate."

"Yes, sir. Uunka, Data -- " she pointed to him " -- android. Worf Klingon."

"Data, Wauf Federasha?"

"Eesh," Mia confirmed.

Uunka turned his attention to Geordi for the first time. "Ah!" Growing excited, he turned back to Mia. "Ahhcha!"

"Yes!" Mia stared at him, surprised. "Geordi was there when I flew."

"What?" Riker demanded.

"When you flew?" Geordi echoed, bewildered.

"Remember how you lifted me up with that anti-gravity beam of yours? And remember how I saw one of the Meewops while I was in the air? Well, he reported back to the tribe, telling them that I could fly, and they decided to bring me back here for a demonstration."

Geordi stared at her. "You're kidding! What happened when you told them you can't fly?"

Mia glanced back at the tribe. "They needed to be convinced."

"You obviously managed that," Riker observed. "But our orders are to keep contact to a minimum. Our presence on their world is a mistake, and we don't want to compound it by interfering with their development any more than we already have. Are you ready to go?"

Mia nodded. Turning to Uunka, she took his hand in hers. "Uunka, Riker rataa neesh. Mia poona."

At her words, the tribe began to chatter and screech.

"Looks like they don't want you to go," Geordi commented.

"Eeka!" Uunka ordered. The tribe immediately hushed. "Mmma Meewop mapau. Luata Uchama."

"What did he say?" Riker asked.

Mia sniffled back tears. "He said I'm a friend of the Meewop and I should visit their land again. Eesh," she replied, patting Uunka's hand. "Luata Uchama."

After one last wave to Haataa and the rest of the tribe, Mia joined Riker and the others. They walked away, waiting until they were out of sight of the tribe before transporting back to the ship.

"One lost lamb returned to the flock," Riker reported to Picard, escorting Mia off the transporter platform.

"You seem to attract adventure, Cadet. I trust you're none the worse for wear?"

"I'm just fine, sir, thank you. Although I don't think I'll ever go parachuting -- I've developed a marked dislike for falling from high places."

Picard's eyebrows rose. "I look forward to reading your report."

Mia sighed. "I knew that was coming. Yes, sir; it'll be on your desk by this afternoon."

"Was there much damage done to the native society by our unintentional intrusion?" Picard asked, turning to more serious topics.

"I don't think so; I didn't see any evidence of changes in their society brought about by our presence. They seemed to take it all in stride, treating us as a new and interesting neighbor."

"The Meewops were impressed with Mia," Geordi added. "They practically made her an honorary member of the tribe."

"I don't think that the botanical station poses a threat to the normal development of the Meewop society, Captain," Mia said. "Do we have to evacuate Dr.Towers and his group?"

Picard nodded. "Star Fleet regulations are very clear on this point, but I imagine a full hearing into the matter will take place. Perhaps the station will be reopened after further study of its potential impact."

"We should be able to break down the station for transport in less than six hours, Captain. There are only three small buildings," Geordi reported.

"Make it so, Mr.LaForge. Stow the materials in Cargo Bay 4; we'll drop the Towers expedition off at Magellan along with Cadet Latham."

"I'll go get my team together."

"Cadet," Picard turned back to Mia, "I think that report can wait a few hours. Why don't you get some rest?"

Mia grinned. "Thank you, sir, but first I'd better write down as much of the Meewop language as I can remember. It's easy to forget all those gestures!" Smiling, she took her leave.

Picard glanced at Riker. "Impressions?"

"I think she's right about our not having had too much of an effect on the natives, but she minimized her accomplishments in establishing a rapport with them. If Star Fleet decides to reestablish an outpost on the planet, I think Mia should be considered for the spot of team anthropologist."

"Isn't she a little young?"

"She'd have to finish at the Academy first," Riker agreed, "but after all, no one has more experience among the Meewop."

"That sounds like an official recommendation, Number One."

Riker shrugged. "I'd be willing to make it so, sir."

The captain smiled. "As would I, Will. It's an excellent suggestion."

Riker grinned back at him. "After this, the Academy will seem dull to Mia."

Picard nodded agreement. "After this, a Romulan war would seem anticlimactic to her!"


End file.
